“How do you feel?” he asked.
“As though I’m owned.”
“Wonderful. Now, go sniff some roses or whatever you have a mind to do—pinch pastries from the kitchen.” He gave her ass a smack and smiled graciously at her as she left the room.
The villa was heaven on earth, rich and fragrant, reminding Rebecca of her times with Ellerby roving the English countryside in the spring and summer. And yet, this earth undulated with an ease that nurtured her far beyond those restless days. Its essence was ripe and potent, climbing through her like the tendrils of winding vines, creeping in to dispel every unsettled place within. After the raw intensity of her life in the Lady Jessica’s London house, this was seamless pleasure, and simplicity to restore her wounded spirit. Despite her slave status, and the
